But it’s awfully entertaining, delivering on its premise while building to a blood-splattered, rip-roaring finale that sees Ambrose understand what it really is he’s fighting for and thus finding the inner strength to do so in the process overcoming his obvious handicap. While not a great werewolf movie, [Late Phases is] still a very good one, and having already watched it twice I almost can’t wait until the opportunity arises to see it again.
Considering my disdain for the first film coupled with my usual dislike of scattershot comedies of this sort, this one was going to have a tough time impressing me long before the Universal Studios’ logo even appeared on the screen. Be that as it may, I hold to my assertion that this is a bad sequel and an even worse comedy.
As strong as many of the individual pieces might be, as impressive as certain sequences are, there is an oddly distant aura permeating Rosewater that’s difficult to get past.
The Theory of Everything is a wondrous, startlingly effective drama. Marsh once again shows a talent for narrative dramatics that’s exceptional, using his skills as a master documentarian to give things a bristling, conspicuously enthralling legitimacy that’s undeniable. Stephen and Jane see their story told with a vital enthusiasm that’s both breathtaking and timeless, their brief history together without question a tale of teamwork, heartache, compromise, commitment, love and achievement that’s as particular to them as it is universal to us all.
I can’t work up much energy to argue for anyone to skip Big Hero 6 and see something else. For what it is, the film is hardly a bore, and more than a few of the more grandiose moments are suitably spectacular.
Why Don’t You Play In Hell? is so all over the place, so untidy, so purposefully nonsensical, the truth of the matter is at a certain point I just didn’t see the point of trying to invest any of myself into the proceedings.
In the case of this 169-minute 2001: A Space Odyssey meets Close Encounters of the Third Kind meets Contact epic, it is likely Nolan’s reach exceeded his grasp, much of this otherworldly adventure never gelling together in ways that are comfortable or satisfying. Yet Interstellar is unabashedly thrilling, euphoric and mesmerizing.
Citizenfour isn’t the best film of the year, it’s likely not even the best documentary, but it might just be the most important one, and for that reason alone it needs to be seen by as many people as possible right away.
Nightcrawler sticks with you like a popcorn kernel stuck in your tooth or like gum refusing to budge from the underside of your shoe, the overall picture an agreeably nauseating plunge into the sewer that is worth diving into headfirst and without a safety harness.